He also was a poet and a musician, a man after my own heart.
He became king of Israel after many turns of fate, the skirmish with Goliath one of the more popular. This is a story of his major failure after he became a King. It's not a military defeat, it's not a statesman's fiasco, it's not a rebellion of indignant subjects. It is a story of stealing another man's wife.
David acknowledged his failure in this Psalm. (there is a slight confusion in the numbering, in the Eastern Orthodox Church it is 50, in Roman Catholic it is 51). It is especially important for Orthodox Christians, as it is read during the Mystery of Repentance, aka Confession.
After he repented, he took the pregnant Bathsheba for his wife, and then the baby died. The death was a punishment for the sin they committed. I shudder at the thought of this kind of punishment, but, as after most punishments, consolation came, forgiveness was received, and another baby was born. They called him Solomon. Talk about second chances.
Song of Solomon is one of the most beautiful love poems in world literature.
Totally in character, this post was prompted by a song (surprise surprise?). I woke up this morning, and it was in my head.
Rufus Wainwright - Hallelujah
(Leonard Cohen)
I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this: the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Maybe I've been here before
I know this room I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
There was a time you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
I remember when I moved in you
The holy dark was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Ok, this was supposed to be a post on sensuality:)
At least vaguely, it is.
David acknowledged his failure in this Psalm. (there is a slight confusion in the numbering, in the Eastern Orthodox Church it is 50, in Roman Catholic it is 51). It is especially important for Orthodox Christians, as it is read during the Mystery of Repentance, aka Confession.
After he repented, he took the pregnant Bathsheba for his wife, and then the baby died. The death was a punishment for the sin they committed. I shudder at the thought of this kind of punishment, but, as after most punishments, consolation came, forgiveness was received, and another baby was born. They called him Solomon. Talk about second chances.
Song of Solomon is one of the most beautiful love poems in world literature.
Totally in character, this post was prompted by a song (surprise surprise?). I woke up this morning, and it was in my head.
Rufus Wainwright - Hallelujah
(Leonard Cohen)
I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this: the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Maybe I've been here before
I know this room I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
There was a time you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
I remember when I moved in you
The holy dark was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Ok, this was supposed to be a post on sensuality:)
At least vaguely, it is.
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